


J-E-N-O-V-A: Awakening

by WavesBlade



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Beyond Good or Evil, Body Horror, Cosmic Horror PoV, Deception, Horror, Infection, Long-Term Strategy, Manipulation, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scheming, Treachery, insidious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WavesBlade/pseuds/WavesBlade
Summary: An entity like Jenova transverses time and space and reality. Easily slipping through threads to view its fate. Never does it win. Either its children fail, usurp her, or the Planet takes drastic action against her to win. Enough is enough. No more shall the Calamity rest its fate on foolish children, or masses of infected. Its time for a more personal approach...
Relationships: Jenova & Cloud Strife, Jenova & Hojo, Jenova & Veld Verdot
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I just can't help myself from making more stories, don't have one yet where Jenova is the main focus character. A villain story if you will, though, a creature like Jenova is kind of beyond good and evil, she's a cosmic horror kind of thing after all...

_I will never be a memory..._

The Firstborn opens her eyes, the body's eyes, and if the living corpse she wore as her flesh and form were capable of it anymore, she would sigh. She finds herself, once more, sitting in a tank of glass and Planet's lifeblood, motionless and entrapped in a body the Cetra deceived her into taking, a trap that crippled her and imprisoned her in, cutting her control of the vast network of cells and children she had created to consume the world. It always came back to this, back to this place, this tank, the monitoring device with J-E-N-O-V-A engraved onto it foolishly checking for brainwaves and monitoring the body's vital signs. It was never about the brain, but the cells instead.

The body, still capable of some sentient action, desires to wrinkle its nose in distaste. At the situation. At the name. Its not the worst she has been called by, all things considered she believes this world translates the name to 'New God'. That certainly doesn't describe her state at the moment, still, if she is forced to identify herself by so simple a term, a singletude definition to a creation that is multitude and everywhere, billions of cells each containing her will and intent all the while inhabiting the soul and flesh she has hollowed out to contain her, Jenova is acceptable.

Jenova takes a moment to orient herself, she always must do this, after glimpsing for the future, following the threads and pathways of _Infinity_. To trace the echoes of other Jenovas who have lived and walked _Eternity_ , existence beyond the span of mortal conception. Time and existence and reality rest upon and within and without planes that most sentient lifeforms can barely perceive. For every instant she lives, there are thousands, millions, an infinity of other Jenovas existing in their own time and place, time moving at a slightly different pace for them, with some circumstances differing slightly, to some having wildly different changes.

Any sentient who had even a concept of this, who could reach out and touch their own minds and existence on other planes of time and reality, may shatter into madness depending on their strength of will. To a being such as her, it is a matter of extension; she is already a multitude, connecting to another multitude that is at once her and not, is not a great leap, for all that is her is not alien to who she is. She is always, in a way, connected to herself, no matter what state she may be in. And what a number of forms she had witnessed as she dreamed and reached out for herself. So many futures and pathways awaited her...

...and all of them ended in her death, her will denied, or finding herself dominated and subverted by her would be children.

Jenova had yet to echo into and observe a future where she _won,_ or where her victory stuck, and that grated. That this Planet and its children could best her again and again and again. If there could be regrets in her billions of years of existence, it would be coming to this blasted Planet. Never had she been challenged like this, victory snatched from her hands at the last moment by the Cetra, witnessing her own defeat so many times echoing through time. She had not lost yet though, so long as even one Jenova won, they would all live on and in and through through the victor, the echos and traces of their experiences and existences seeping into them.

The body wants to twitch and move, and that is aggravating to Jenova. She has been trapped in this singletude for to long, she's adapted and adopted to a singular existence far more than she ever would want to. To the point where mortal mannerisms and instincts and thought patterns are seeping into who and what she is. But perhaps... that is what she needs to do. For has she always not failed when she tried her own normal tactics? To infect and spread, or to try to champion one of her Children? Sephiroth was one of the more frequent attempts, but one way or another, it always failed. If not through Sephiroth's death, then through him dominating and enslaving her will to his whims, binding her multitude to his arrogant single existence.

Jenova was no one's slave.

She has seen echoes of Rhapsodos, of Hewely, of Strife, of Lockheart, of Rui, Weiss, Nero, all that and more serving as her children, even interlopers from other Realities or Planes of Existence who had no natural place upon this world; an infinity of those who do not belong here yet somehow find their way to this world, this realm, this reality. Aerith, the last Cetra, even her, has born Jenova's cells and purpose in several existences. She has named countless individuals her Children, and yet, it still fails, no matter who or what. Either Jenova fails when they are killed, or the child subverts and kills her. The Ancient especially usually finds a way to kill her, and then to seed her own demise rather than let herself become Calamity and replace Jenova. Even with an Eternity of attempts, the path of children always ends in her demise. So she must close that pathway.

No more shall she rest her fate in her would be children's hands.

Yet in other echoes, she has seen herself break free of her confinement, find a new undamaged body, start a new spreading of her cells and will, only to be bested yet again. Or at least circumvented by the activation of the Planet's failsafe. So many times had the Planet destroyed itself, consumed its Lifestream to send the soul of one of its children back into a new past while killing Jenova in the obliteration of the Planet and its Lifestream, a sacrifice to cheat her of her victory. A tide of consumption and infection does not work. A multitude always fails as well, one way or another.

So there is one last option.

Jenova, as a singletude.

She has seen very few echos of this, and always when it is done, Jenova becomes... something _else_. A new existence, a new reality of what was once Calamity. A new form that is no longer properly her, that she cannot follow the echo to see its ending. If she follows this path, she must do it differently to retain that which is Firstborn, the First Fallen, the first Calamity, all that she is and has been. She must remain a multitude withing a singularity. Containing all that she is within the body and soul she devours and puppets to her whims. That, she decides is the reality of what she herself will attempt, not merely witnessing through an echo. She only has so short a time to devise a strategy, a few years from where things cascade into confrontation one way or another.

If that fool Hollander had not botched his creation of Rhapsodos, which in turn destroys Hewely, and eventually results in Sephiroth coming to her, she would have more time.

But she does not.

Even beyond those three, Deepground is a secondary timer.

The Mako Reactors a third, the Planet will not suffer more than half a century more of them before it activates its WEAPONs on its own to destroy them.

Roughly fifty of this planet's years is such a short time within _Eternity_.

Hojo is of course a wild-card as well, his mad intellect sometimes sends Sephiroth to her much earlier then expected.

Regardless, first thing is first, she must escape this damaged vessel, this trap which confines her and limits her ability to control or affect those that bear her cells. She does not believe she should necessarily control them, but the ability to listen through them and observe important events is a tool she must carefully use. Whats more, she must do this without drawing the Planet's ire. If it detects her escape, detects her will becoming active in a way it perceives as a threat, it will activate its WEAPONs and start the confrontation far to soon.

Jenova is careful, when she reaches out her senses, to mask her presence and activity from the Planet. It expects her to be a multitude, so acting solely through either a few or one vessel at a time will allow her to evade detection. Her cells are being used by Shinra in so many ways, SOLDIER, and Hojo's experiments. Even within this Reactor, her cells seep through the Lifeblood cycled through this tank into the wilds and the animal life foolish enough to consume it. Her ability to affect things is... not nearly as refined as it needs to be, nor does it have great range outside of projecting her voice to them as naught but whispers. But she finds what she is looking for: A Nibel Dragon.

If this body could smile, it would. She plants an image of the Reactor in its head, inciting its anger and rage. The bellowing of the great Wyrm, the shaking of the walls, is her success. Explosions rips through the building, and the dragon breaches through the walls, snarling and tearing into everything. A single swing of its tail clips Jenova's tank, shattering it, and sending Jenova's prison out of the building into the snowy peaks. She can already feel the Planet's attention turning to her, detecting her body move, so she acts in what little time she has.

A single slug, a worm of cells crawls its way out of the body, dropping down midair as the body continues to tumble through the air. She does not do any further movement initially. Watching as the body lands far away and does not move. The Planet seems to hold its breath, but nothing happens. Jenova does not make her body stir, it merely lays there, as the Cetra intended, a prison that appears to have successfully contained her. Shinra will eventually come to repair the reactor and reclaim the body, she images Hojo will come himself, but that's fine. Jenova, the little worm she is now, carefully crawls away from both her body and the dragon's rampage. She wills the dragon to calm, she wanted the reactor damaged, but not destroyed. If it exploded, it might take the mountain, and her, with it.

It takes her days, by which she has already heard helicopters flying overhead to the reactor, until she finds her would be victim, her new host. She is amused when she turns her attention to Cloud Strife's Mother, picking at shrubbery, most likely trying to find food to alleviate some financial problems if Jenova recalls what she knows about Strife's childhood correctly. Its amusing in a way that this little footnote in history hasn't made enough impact for Jenova to have even learned her name, yet will bear her will onto victory. She crawls forward, shifting through the snow, stretching, ambling, _seeking_...

When the woman turns away from the bush, making to stand, Jenova strikes. Her form mutates, the worm growing appendixes in seconds, bursting in size, and launches itself at the woman. She doesn't even have a chance to shriek before Jenova latches onto her face, her form shifting into a mask of flesh that wraps around her head, a thread of it clasped around the woman's throat. She pours herself into the woman; down her throat, up her nose, in her eyes, through her ears, and begins to consume her victim.

She takes her mind; ripping away thoughts and binding her brain.

She takes her will; oppressing it within her own, smothering and eating away at it.

She takes her soul; showing it the truth of what Jenova is and watching it shatter in uncomprehending madness.

She devours it all and slides into the hollow that remains, its living corpse to be her shell, her vessel of ascension. She leaves enough of the woman's instincts and presence to use as a mask should the Planet or the last ancient gaze at her, but trappings used to deceive others is all what remains of the elder Strife. Jenova takes a moment to properly nestle her essence into the woman, before she begins picking through its memories:

Claudia Strife, born as Claudia Strauss before adopting her late husband's name.

That was the name she would adopt, that is the singularity she would become. She flexes and relaxes her new hands, lifting up and eying the flesh. Not too old, the younger part of middle aged, either older twenties or early thirties for this species. Widowed young. It wouldn't have truly mattered if the body was older, she could change it if necessary, but it would draw less attention if a younger woman were to do what she intended, rather than an older and frail woman. Some of the things she will do however... might not seem natural for anyone whose known the host.

She needs a catalyst for change, to explain her behavior... perhaps a near death experience? Yes, that could serve as a reason. Her new ears pick up the wind starting to whisper through the trees and mountainside, clouds gathering. A storm is coming. She imagined the woman would have already been on her way back and been safely secured in her home by the time the storm hit. But getting caught in it? Partially frostbitten? Almost dying?

Its perfect.

An excuse to want to leave these mountains, a fear that she's starting to get old and unable to handle the weather here, yes, that would work. Besides, does her _son_ not wish to become a SOLDIER? She smiles menacingly; she wouldn't be a caring and loving mother if she didn't wish to accommodate her son, now would she? Moving to Midgar for safety and to allow her child to follow her dream? She lets a low chuckle escape her body's lips...

She twitches when she feels a wave of hostility. Protectiveness. Love. She's devoured the woman, shattered her soul and scattered her will, yet the trappings of Strife still desire to protect her son. She pets the tortured remains of the soul and whisper sweet nothings to it: She is not going to harm Cloud Strife, at least, not anytime soon. He will be a tool, a means to an end, but she will not make him her Child again. Not at least until the absolute end when she takes him and everyone else within her, their souls becoming part of her gazing out into _Infinity_ in bleak endless horror, eyes seeing endless darkness of never ending existence, witnessing truth they cant comprehend.

She follows the memories towards the town of Nibelheim as the blizzard starts up in force, the body screaming in pain that means nothing to her. The frost bites in, her lips are blue, her hands are in agony, her feet are numb. The remains of the soul and mind of Claudia bears it, Jenova afflicts it upon her as punishment for even a moment of defiance. She allows her to barely cling to existence to shield herself from prying eyes, nothing more, nothing less. When she at lasts manages to stagger into the town, she is not surprised to find a young Cloud Strife in heavy clothing waiting, struggling to withstand the biting winds, fear and concern rippling off him, with a few of the other villagers arguing with him to go home and out of the storm.

"Look!" he cries out over the rushing winds, "Ma! Its Ma!"

Cue to act; She lets the body collapse into the snow.

" _ **MA**_!" screams Cloud in fear, rushing over to her, throwing his coat off to wrap her in as he and others drag her to their home.

They have a fire going and place her near it, plucking off chilling clothes and finding new, warmer ones.

"Heavens, her toes and fingers are all blue, lips are pale, skin is near frozen to the touch," curses one of them, "How'd she even make it back? I thought she woulda dropped dead far before now."

"My ma is tough!" exclaimed Cloud, pride and fear coating his voice, "She wont let a storm get her!"

"Even if she lives, she's probably going to lose something," mutters another.

"No! You've gotta do something to help her!" yells Cloud.

"Calm your shit boy," snapped a man, "We'll do what we can, but what was your fool Mother even doing out there in this?"

"I think she was berry hunting," mumbles Cloud, "Wanted to see if anything was left 'fore the first storm."

A man huffs. "I don't know if she can even afford potions then if she has to scavenge for food."

"She can find a way to work off the debt, someone go fetch some, or maybe see if any of the Shinra at the Inn can use a cure or heal materia, they might not charge."

Cloud flutters anxiously at her side, switching between pacing and kneeling next to her. She always recalls the traitor trying to appear strong, the sobs escaping his lips are... a delightful experience. So simple an act made that pain to flow freely. Hmph, Hojo needed his petty little experiments to force that pain over five years. Paltry little fool playing god...

She feels curative magic flowing over her, so she gasps after a few seconds, starting upward before a hand pushes her gently back down. She is honestly rather caught offguard to see that its a Turk, and Veld Verdot of all of them. She supposes anything related to that body they deemed 'Jenova' demanded serious attention then. "Where... what?"

The man slowly rolls his sleeve back over his bracer, not paying an ounce of more attention to her, looking impassively at one of the other men... Mayor Lockheart if she recalls, "Will that suffice?"

"Yes, thank you greatly for your help," said the Mayor bowing his head.

"Thank you sir!" exclaims Cloud.

Jenova blinks confusingly at Cloud. She should have paid more attention to his younger years, he's far more energetic and open than she recalls. She knows vaguely there was some foolish little incident when he was younger that caused a rift between him and the rest of Nibelheim, something to do with the younger Lockheart nearly dying. Either she's not as far along in time as she thought she was, having traveled to many echoes to properly recall her own placement, or it hasn't set in enough to begin to affect him.

Verdot merely nods at Cloud, glancing briefly down at Jenova, "Take care of yourself then, ma'am."

"I... yes?" she muttered, looking around in confused bafflement.

"You got caught out in a storm, ma," said Cloud wordily as Verdot turned and left, a pair of other Turks in his wake, one of them snickering and giving Verdot a mocking smile, "Good deed of the year boss man, ain't ever letting you live it down."

"I have a bullet with your name on it Katana," replied Verdot in a warning tone before the door closes.

Jenova focuses on her deception with them gone, no one of intelligence to detect any falsehoods. "Oh... it... it was real then, I thought... I thought I was going to _die_."

She takes in a deep, shaky, panicked breath.

"Hey, hey, hey! It's okay ma, its okay," said Cloud, startled and ancy, wrapping her in a hug.

She hugs him back, and oh, it would be so easy, just a simple slice with a sharpened fingernail, seeding cells within him. So pathetically easy. But she exercises restraint, now is not the time. Besides, Verdot would be a fare more prime target if she wanted to take another host or puppet, but she doesn't. She merely forces the living-corpse she wears to clutch its child for dear life, starting to cry.

Mayor Lockheart coughs awkwardly. "We... will be on our way then."

They leave, and its just Jenova and Cloud, the boy whose ruined so many Jenovas in so many a time. It would be so very easy to kill him...

But petty pointless revenge is beneath Jenova. She instead takes ironic amusement that Strife is comforting his truest enemy. He waits out her tears, helps her to a table, and scrambles to make her soup, sustenance this weak pathetic body requires. She gives off a pathetic, shaken state, allowing Cloud to lead her to bed. She's a bit amused when he nestles in with her, she would have thought the 'strong independent' Cloud would be past such childlike need. She reflects through her memory of him for a moment, comparing ages...

He's at most ten, most likely nine. Yes, she's back much farther than she thought she was. Good, good. That gives her more time to encroach into Midgar, much more time...

* * *

Jenova keeps up her restless sleeping appearance, sleeping in far longer than the memories this body has implies is normal. She does not stir when the door opens and someone else enters, the voice much younger, but still recognizable.

"How's your mum?" asks Tifa.

"Ma is... really shaken up," admits Cloud, and he sounds scared, "I've never seen Ma like this before."

"She almost died," said Tifa quietly, "That's gotta be really scary for anyone."

"Yeah...," admits Cloud quietly before asking, "What about your mom? Is she getting any better?"

Tifa is quiet for a long moment. "I dunno, daddy got the Shinra people to try their materia on her too, it helped a little bit, but... they said without continual treatment either with the right medicine or materia... Mom says the gods might still take her over the mountain."

"She'll be 'kay," said Cloud, "Anyway, do you wanna stay for breakfast?"

"Nah, I just wanted to come and see how you and your mum were doing since daddy was talkin 'bout it," said Tifa.

"Alright, thanks," said Cloud shyly.

Tifa giggled, and was out the door.

Jenova sighed. Mortals...

"Oh, ma! You awake?"

Jenova blinks her eyes open sleepily. "Mmm? Who was that?"

"Oh, umm... the Mayor's daughter."

Jenova makes a show of frowning, searching memories. "Tifa? I don't remember her ever coming by often."

Cloud looks away briefly, mumbling, "She was worried 'bout you."

Jenova goes silent.

Cloud looks back at her. "You okay, Ma?"

Jenova takes in a shaky breath and lets it out. "I... will be eventually, but..."

She rolls to stare up at the ceiling. "I'm not sure I'll be able to really handle Nibel's rage when I truly start getting old, the mountain was not kind to me yesterday."

"You just gotta be more careful, Ma," said Cloud, coming to sit on the bed, his legs kicking out.

"It would take only one mistake, Cloud," she rebukes gently, "Then I'd be leaving you all alone, it would break my heart to do that to you."

Cloud swallows before puffing himself up. "We'll, I'll just be sure to go with you n keep you safe, Ma."

She reaches out and pulls him to her, wrapping him in her arms. "My little Cloud, that would only put you in danger, and I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you."

"Not little," he huffs.

She ruffles his hair. "Go out and play Cloud."

He gives her a searching look. "You'll be okay by yerself?"

She huffed. "Whose the parent here Cloud?"

He gives her a dubious look.

She swats at his shoulder, sending him off. "And tell that old bastard Lockheart I want to talk to him."

"'Kay Ma," Cloud calls back out the door.

Jenova lets the false smile fall off her face, a cold calculating look taking its place as she considers the interaction. The boy is worried about his 'Mother', and attributes anything unusual that happened to the storm. Nothing extra noticed thus far, which is good. Cloud is the one who would know Claudia best so far, and children tended to be unusually perceptive about certain things. Underestimating children was something that had given her victory on several worlds before now, serving as unassuming vectors of contagion. She had detonated infants before, a cloud and malaise of cells floating through the air infecting in-mass...

She let herself smile fondly at the memory until Mayor Lockheart walks in a few minutes later and tips his head. "Ma'am."

"Lockheart," she offers back tiredly.

He gives her a once over, but does not offer any concern, whether its respect of pride, or because he doesn't actually care, doesn't actually matter. "What can I do for you?"

She makes a show of licking her lips and looking away, allowing ancyness to flow down her limps. "Do you... know of anyone looking to buy a house in Nibel?"

He blinks at her, not comprehending.

"This house," she mumbles.

"Claudia," he states, surprised, "You want to sell and move?"

"I... think it would be for the best," she answers, looking at the floor.

"I know you had quite the scare, Claudia, perhaps you should take a few days to calm yourself and think...," he began.

"Lockheart," she states, her voice filling with steel, looking up to meet his gaze, "I almost left my little boy all on his own."

The man goes quiet for a long minute, before he sighs. "Alright, I'll look into it. I've got a few old friends from my younger days who might be interested in having a place up here. It'll take a bit though, so think it over and be sure you really want this 'fore I go and drag someone all the way out here to look at the house."

She nods and watches him go before she shifts focus to take inventory of the household and all the objects in it, determining what to keep, what to sell, and what to throw away...

* * *

"Ma? Are... are we really going to leave?"

The voice is rather timid, mused Jenova, she rather found she enjoyed stringing along this paltry young version of Strife as the weeks passed until a buyer had been found. "I'm afraid so. I just don't think its safe here for us. The winters are grueling, the monsters in the mountain are ferocious, the job opportunities..."

She shakes her head and goes for a guilt stirring accusation. "I don't make enough money here to properly feed us both. I'd have to give up some of my own food to keep you going through the winter, do you want that?"

Cloud takes in a sharp breath, surprised, then deeply worried. "No! But... Ma... have you been? I've seen you countin gil lots of times 'fore."

She looks away for a long moment. "Its a mother's duty to sacrifice for her child, Cloud."

"Ma!"

"You're getting old enough to understand the struggles of life Cloud," answered Jenova, "I don't think I have to hide it from you anymore."

His jaw sets, his back straightens and he gets that look in his eye, the one of defiance Jenova is so used to seeing as he points an accusing finger at her. "Don't you go n go hungry for me again Ma, I can take bein hungry."

She gives him a searching look. "I hope so Cloud. Its not going to be easy getting across the world to find a new place to live, we will have to manage supplies and money and make sure we have enough gil left to actually buy or rent a house when we get there and tide us over until I find a job. It's very likely we will both go hungry."

His chin tilts up, chest puffing with youthfulness. "We're Strife tough, right Ma?"

Oh, if only he knew half of what his many other self's had endured. "Yes Cloud, yes we are..."


	2. To Midgar

Jenova had forgotten about Cloud's motion sickness.

Its rather irresponsible of her on principle rather than concern, she's seen him killed off early a few times because of it after all if she recalls correctly. Its nothing that annoys her, she's very used to those with her cells wracking their sickly bodies heaving out more of her cells churning in their stomach as an increasing vector of contagion. The only thing the boys heaving does do is briefly draw attention of those nearby on the ship, but it also has the benefit of making them shy away as well. Jenova is certain she will pass muster under brief inspection, but until she is firmly 'comfortable' in this sole body, keeping her awareness limited from the rest of her cells scattered across the world, she'd rather any attention sent her way to be minimal.

She rubs small circles on her so-called son's back, idly contemplating if genetically altering him enough to eliminate the defect and then pulling out is worth it for less exposure, but decides against it. Even she is not immune to temptation, and genetically changing one small thing about Cloud would lead in to a desire to change more, and she will not turn him into her true child again. If she must use her power to modify others, it must be with purpose, not idle amusement. She contemplates the paltry beginnings of Cloud Strife, he's not the first that has stood against her so strongly, even before this world. 'Mountain Town Bumpkin' isn't the worst label her enemies have begun from, if she has to pick one, 'Young Sex Slave' rising to world hero would be her most chagrined. If only because of the weak and powerless beginning yet had actually managed to contest her; the slave had noticed the infection spreading and understood it for what it was, and things had become... irritating afterwards. It hadn't saved that world in the end, but it had lengthened the duration of her struggle by at least half a century. That soul had been a fine feast when all was said and done.

They had opted to travel light. Both of them carrying a single backpack apiece, his on his back, hers tied to her waist, bumping against her leg with every step to know if it was being rifled with. Each had a spare set of clothing, dried foods, a few tools and weapons. She allowed Cloud a hunting knife only, because she can faintly recall that children are not suppose to actually carry weapons in most civilized societies, though outer reaches and harsher areas generally ignore this. Jenova could wield a sword and cleave through a human or a monster's body, bones and all, easily enough even without Mako pumping through the host's veins, but opted instead to buy a shotgun for the journey that she kept strapped across her back as to not drawn attention to abnormal strength. This world was at an awkward stage, most tended to shift away from melee weaponry, which ironically made it easier to spread if her enemies didn't know how to handle close-combat as bullets did little against her swarms. This world however still held a mixture of melee and ranged, though most feared a gun more than a sword unless it was wielded by a SOLDIER, which was her purpose in getting a gun. She could influence any regard SOLDIERs had towards her easily with her cells in them, so there was no need to prepare for them. Knowing her targets, her audience, and how to manage resources was something she knew of in spades.

She had, after all, eaten the souls and minds of many a leader.

They had struck out from Nibelheim and headed southward, monster populations had yet to heavily rise in the aftermath of several reactor issues such as the Gongaga Reactor explosion that had leaked mako everywhere. The natural seepage from normal reactor functions was, of course, starting to mutate and increase the presence of monsters, but not anywhere near the level it would become over a decade from now. Thus far, she'd only had to fire her shotgun once, in warning, that had scared off a few miserable misbegotten creatures. She had made sure to steer clear of Cosmo Canyon, the nose of the intelligent feline that generally joined Cloud's group was... something she wasn't sure she could counteract yet. Pheromone and scent was a delicate issue to handle for those kind of species, not something she generally needed to concern herself with for humans. SOLDIERs had a better sense of smell, yes, but not close to the degree the feline would have.

They had managed to hitch a ride from Gongaga up to Corel with a few coins. There, she had made her second major, calculated decision. After tucking away Cloud securely in the inn, to make sure he never actually met the man, she 'sought out' Barret Wallace. Indirectly of course, she had no desire to speak to the man after all. The only thing she wanted was to take away potential enemies, in this regard, she would show _mercy_. She was, after all, not inclined to be noted as 'a woman who wandered in and out during Wallace's sudden unexplained death'. No, all she did was take away one of the reasons that would lead the man to fight and continue AVALANCHE after the first failed.

She volunteered in the inn's kitchen, which many a miner and their family came to eat at. She watched Wallace and his wife with predatory intent, cutting her finger and slipping blood into the woman's meal. She was not there to infect, oh no. She was there... her lips twisted in amusement... to preserve a life. Even if Shinra hadn't destroyed Corel, the man's wife would die to her illness within the year of when it would have been wiped out. Any life of Jenova's other selves she had watched, when the man's wife, along with Corel survived, he had no reason to leave, and rarely did. So when her cells slip into the woman, she kills the budding infection and then disposes of her cells. She has no further desires of this place, and has several years yet to make sure the town is not destroyed.

Ironic, in a way, that war and strife usually furthered her cause. But not this time, no, she wants this world peaceful and complacent, giving her more time to plan and act. Ignorance and complacency were just as lethal to a world as the confusion and uncertainty of conflict. If things went her way, no one would have a clue of who and what she was until it was far to late...

Corel was a more rougher town, a sexual favor to get passage to Costa Del Sol meant nothing to her. Honestly, the things one could get for instinctual acts was amusing, and if it didn't generally come with reputation loss, something she would have abused in Midgar. She had of course been right to conserve money. The price of a pair of ship tickets was... unexpected, something she had never paid attention to in any life, but came back to bite her in planning. To the point where the few coins she had used to get to Corel might have been an error. She ends up having to volunteer to work within the ship when she wasn't looking after the boy for more money, Cloud was too sickly to be of use in any working regard unfortunately. She was going to have to start in the Midgar Slums and work her way up, there was no way she could afford a plate apartment, at least, not without abusing her infectious abilities to control people and steal the money, but she wasn't willing to risk anything with that.

Cloud's eyes are wide with wonder when they land in Junon, or perhaps wide with relief from being on solid ground. A large city is certainly a new experience for the young boy. She wants him dependent on her for the time being, so she keeps him close, warning him of strangers. He gives her a solemn nod, clutches his hand in hers, and gives anyone who takes more than a second glance at them a suspicious look. Its a minor thing, but even the beginnings of distrust and devotion must begin somewhere, in others for the first and towards her with the second. He wont be her son, but she will still claim his allegiance. Its an... oddity, to be sure. Its not something she generally bothers with, she doesn't need the devotion of those infected, though she does take advantage of it when it happens, not to mention the occasional doomsday cult that had helped speed things along once or twice during past consumptions.

The path to Midgar isn't as treacherous as it would be in the coming years. Through the mountain caves and across the swamp isn't necessary at the moment, there is still a kept road through the hills and mountain pass that hasn't fallen to either an avalanche or AVALANCHE, or whatever it had been that had taken it down in various lives she had witnessed. Not to mention the SOLDIERs patrolling it. The Wutai War must not quite be at its height yet for Shinra to actual bother with employing SOLDIERs in public safety positions...

"Ma, why are their eyes glowing?"

Jenova blinks once, her only surprise at the question. The boy hadn't heard of SOLDIER yet? When exactly had his early admiration of Sephiroth started? Unimportant she supposed. "They're called SOLDIER, men somehow turned stronger than monsters, made strong to keep us all safe."

"Somehow? You dun know Ma?"

Jenova shook her head. "News don't travel that far to ol' Nibel much. If its more known around here, I s'pose we'll find out."

One of the SOLDIERs stalking the mountain path overhears them at a distance, and appears bored enough to talk with random civilians, approaching, "It's a Shinra process, tightly guarded secret. Only those who are able to pass through a rigorous training process, boot camp, and testing are chosen to be made a SOLDIER."

He gives Cloud a challenging look. "Think you could handle it, kid?"

Cloud tilts his chin up, a stubborn look on his face. "If I wan'ed to, I could. I'm Strife tough."

The SOLDIER laughs and claps Cloud on the back of his shoulder, sending him stumbling. "Sure kid, that's the spirit."

Cloud scowls at him, and attempts to bat away the hand reaching to ruffle his hair, but finds he can't, eyes going wide when he tries and fails to even budge it. "You're strong!"

The SOLDIER grins. "You might be 'Strife tough', kid, but I'm SOLDIER tough."

He laughs and walks away, waving back at them as he goes without turning. Cloud glares at the man's back, flustered, before he turns and kicks at the road. Jenova doesn't comment on that, merely saying, "Lil' arrogant, but seems of a nice enough sort."

She waits for it, and is moderately impressed Cloud manages to hold it in until they are out of the mountains. "Think I could be a SOLDIER, Ma?"

She smiles at him, amused. "I know you could," even if it usually ended up being SOLDIER-by-experiment.

* * *

Midgar is, as ever, a trash-heap of metal and depravity that crushes down on the poor and the weak.

They barely have enough money to afford renting a run-down apartment. "Ma, I liked our old house better."

"I know Cloud," she soothes, "I don't much like this place either, but we got'ta start somewhere."

They spend the first day cleaning up and cleaning out their apartment. The second, she spends getting the normal human necessities out of the way. Finding Cloud a slum school to go to, locating a job and setting up an interview for it, buying initial groceries for food, meeting with and determining that her neighbors are as worthless as the rest of the pathetic humans in the slums. The third day... she goes on the prowl...

The Ancient is already with her adoptive mother, Jenova observes the child silently, a mechanical blank look still etched on the girls face. Not yet fully learned how to exist outside of Hojo's laboratory, though she appears to try to interact with other slum children, most likely at the elder Gainsborough's insistence. The Turks are already watching her as well. Potentially mentally vulnerable at this age, but to interact with her would draw attention. Risky as well, that the Ancient might feel something, or through her the Planet. Jenova is confident in the mask she wears, but not absolutely so. She will leave the Ancient alone for now, if they encounter eachother, then so be it, but it will be by happenstance rather than intent.

She scouts out, whether through stealth or eavesdropping, the status of the slum. Don Corneo, an unimportant blip in the overall fate of the world, rules down here. His prostitution and drug ring operate in plain sight. She's seen collectors beat down those who cannot pay their 'protection money', and knows that might be one of her first obstacles here if they bother with a random woman. They might, extorting everyone seems to be their job. She could simply kill them, but again, that draws attention. Its annoying, but she will deal with it if it comes down to it.

The job she chose was carefully selected. A secretarial position at the Midgar Times News Station in Sector Eight. A job that would keep her relatively informed of events in Midgar. A job that wasn't exactly looked down upon, perhaps slighted or ignored, but could lead in to a higher position there or elsewhere. Her goal would be to eventually end up in Shinra Headquarters, but not yet. As the main entertainment sector of Midgar, it was the busiest in multiple ways that could be useful. She could easily blend in if she so chose. It was also possible that she could encounter people of influence from Shinra here. The most frequented sector by SOLDIERs as well, if she wanted to slowly, _not quickly_ , but slowly gain connections with them. Finally, and perhaps most immediately important, Sector Eight had LOVELESS Avenue, which meant she could keep a relative eye on Rhapsodos.

She is not sure at this point if fixing Rhapsodos or letting him wither and die is the best course of action. So many things could spiral out of control if she lets it happen, but on the flip side, if he's still standing when she begins the distant active part of her destruction of the world, he will most likely oppose her. There is also the possibility that Minerva may heal him herself, it hasn't always happened in the lives of her other selves that she has glimpsed, but it is a more common outcome. It is something she has to think upon, not to mention, what happens to Rhapsodos will affect both Sephiroth and Hewely as well, then through Hewely, Zackery Fair. That little gnat has had a surprising amount of influence in various lives she has witnessed.

She will have to think on it.

She arrives at her interview and shakes hands with the man greeting her, digging her nails in briefly to seed cells into him to influence his judgement. She'll destroy them after, but she will not allow this to chance...

"I'm sympathetic," offers the man towards the end of the interview, "To a young single mother starting over in a new, unfamiliar place. I'm willing to give you a chance, but if I may make a suggestion...?"

"I'm always willing to listen and learn," offers Jenova with a fake charming smile.

"You might want to make professional clothing one of your first purchases," he says, amused.

Jenova blinked, glancing down at her more rugged mountain town clothes. "Ah..."

Such a trifle thing as mortal clothing appeared to have slipped her thoughts. "I'll have something better after my first paycheck."

The man hums, giving her a considering look. "As a favor, I can make a small loan, so long as you agree to pay it back..."

She gleans his thoughts, its a test of personality, and counters it better. "I would, but would it not be simpler to take it out of the first paycheck?"

That gets a smile out of him. "True. Very well. I'll meet you after work to find you appropriate clothing, then I expect to see you here starting Monday at six'o'clock sharp."

"Thank you sir, I appreciate it."

She lays in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling while waiting for the next day. The groundwork has been set, but the progress will likely be slow and tedious for the next few years. She has patience, she's recovered from near single-cell defeats, tediously spreading and overcoming over hundreds to thousands of years before returning to devour those who had forgotten her. Not ignoring the millions of years transit between planets. She did generally have an entire planets worth of knowledge and culture to assimilate during the travel time she supposed. Regardless, a few years of tedious mortal existence is nothing in the long run, and will help her learn how to more properly blend in...


	3. First Meetings

Don Corneo's henchmen make their first appearance on her second day of work after Jenova's shift is done and she's picked up Cloud from school. The unearned arrogance as they saunter into view and surround her and the boy is not enough to properly try her patience, but there is the brief twitch from her host to lash out and guard Cloud. She quiets it and goes still instead, a heavy and warning grip on the boy's shoulder to keep him still and quiet. There are five of them total, the 'leader' is a burly thug in... pink and purple. Not the colors shes accustomed to for such cretins, the notion to call him queer rises from the remnants of the elder Strife. She doesn't immediately, but she'll keep the thought. Pushing mortals into blind rage tends to work wonders usually.

It has, of course, backfired and pushed them into pulling out their true strength on occasion. But not from weaklings like this.

"Afternoon ma'am," says the thug, chewing on a cigarette and puffing a cloud of smoke into her face, "We can't help but notice ya moved into our neighborhood recently."

Jenova raises a single eyebrow and says nothing.

The thug chews a few times, frowning when she doesn't respond. "We're feelin pretty nice today, and thought to let you know that there's a certain protection fee that needs to be paid b'for yer late in payin."

"Protection from what," inquired Jenova.

The man sneered. "Us."

Jenova contemplates if killing them is worth it or not. She's since acquired smaller weaponry, a bootknife that she carries. She's more than capable of putting it through all three of their skulls faster than they can blink. Tedious complications could occur of course if attention is drawn, and if witnesses come across them before she vacates the area. Cloud of course would take her side, but the loose lips of a child could brag or boast about his Mother and cause problems.

Then she detects two familiar presences nearby... and is rather confused by how weak her two children feel.

Moments later, Genesis Rhapsodos and Angeal Hewely round the corner and pause, taking in the sight of mother and child surrounded by thugs. Then the first thing Jenova notices is the lack of Mako in their eyes. How heavy the Buster Sword seems on Hewely's back.

_They haven't joined SOLDIER yet._

Not once had she ever paid attention to when exactly they joined. She is so much earlier then expected. They were likely on their way this very moment to apply. The intelligent thing for them to do was carry on their way and not get involved, while both have her cells, they are unenhanced. Hewely of course, would consider it a besmirch on his so called honor to not intervene.

"Is something the matter here?" calls out Hewely.

The lead thug turns and sneers at him. "Notin you idgets need to worry 'bout. Get lost."

Rhapsodos narrows his eyes, arrogance dripping from his lips, "I'll have you know, you uneducated philistine, I am likely the most cultured and intelligent person to have ever graced you with their presence."

"Y'all be dead, pretty boy, if you keep it up," spat the thug.

"Mmm, I'm flattered you approve of my looks, but no thank you, I don't _do_ faggots," said Genesis, sneering at him.

Hewely sighed, as the thug gave a roar and charged at them. "You never hesitate with that tongue of yours, do you?"

"I don't need to," said Genesis, drawing his rapier and surging to meet the thugs.

It didn't last long. They might not be enhanced SOLDIERs yet, but they at least know their way around their family weapons at this point. Not that they will be allowed to use them until they reach 1st class instead of standard equipment if Jenova recalls SOLDIER policy correctly. She wonders idly how much of a fit Rhapsodos will throw over that, or will he hold it inside as something to fuel his fire? She supposes it doesn't matter. What does matter is this moment, and what she chooses to do with it. She did not expect to have such immediate access to either of her sons. Nor their aid. It was a trifle mater, truly, she could have handled it herself, but it solved an issue. Though it was likely others would be sent.

Were these any other pitiable mortals, her eventual food, she wouldn't bother repaying them unless she saw a use of it.

But there were unspoken rules amongst her kind for as little as they met.

She generally ate her kin whenever they crossed, but there had been a few times, where two Calamities had met to contest a world, and the other had _wisely_ yielded the feast to her, to the Firstborn. She let them live, even sent an image and a path they might tread to find a world she had passed on her travels but been unable to land on considering her vessels were meteors moving at incredible speeds. If they could aim themselves correctly as a world blew apart, well, they'd find themselves a feast at the end of their travels. Sometimes, in the psychic web they may cautiously form temporarily between them, they'd share conquests, memories and delights, very rarely DNA and magic to alter themselves.

Honestly, most of her kind were voracious fools who only desired to feast and feast without enjoyment of the meal. Craving what had been lost before they became what they were. That was where she and others of her kind differed. Jenova had accepted what she had become. There was no going back. Those who couldn't adapt deserved to be devoured.

Which brings her back to her children.

They had done her a boon.

She decides that preserving Rhapsodos's genetic structure will cause less catastrophe in the future. Will allow for more 'peace' and stagnation if he never starts his war. So while he and Hewely are cleaning up, she withdraws her boot knife, scrapes her thigh a little through her clothes to get blood on the blade, and hides it up her sleeve. He saunters over and gives her a brief bow.

"Genesis Rhapsodos at your service, are you alright, m'lady?"

Jenova's host wishes to raise an incredulous eyebrow, a sensation of - _over the top_ \- coming from her. Jenova agrees and does so, Rhapsodos was always theatrical and egotistical. Genesis huffs and holds out a hand in greeting instead. She takes it and pulls herself closer, knife slipping into her hand that she pokes into his clothes, a slight pinch to his skin, allowing her cells to seep in with her blood while he goes very still.

"If you try to demand any sexual favors from me for your 'service', I will gut you," she says sharply.

Rhapsodos recoiled, offended. "I would never!"

"So you say, but you wouldn't be the first to try," Jenova says simply.

Rhapsodos wrinkled his nose, but wisely doesn't move with a knife pressed to his gut. He does foolishly take his eyes off her and glance back at a wary Hewely. "Honestly Angeal, what kind of hellhole have we come to?"

"One where those on the plate above don't give a shit about those below," answers Jenova flatly, a single eye watching Hewely for the expected reaction.

And doesn't he play to expectation, eyes narrowed in indignation and offense, a stain against those he would serve. A realization of Shinra's negligence far before he might have noticed it before. A seed planted for future reaping.

"Ma," says Cloud from behind her, "They seem alright."

She hums. "One can never be to careful, my son."

She withdraws her knife, brings her foot up behind her, and slides the knife back in with practiced motions. Rhapsodos watches the motion with an appraising eye, but doesn't comment. When one doesn't need to sleep, one has all the time in the world to practice the little things in life. She takes a step back, as does Genesis, putting what mortals would call a respectable distance between them.

"You have my thanks," she offered, "But its likely they'll just send more for their protection money. You should leave, quickly."

"I can take on a few thugs," sniffed Rhapsodos.

"They own the entire slum," answered Jenova pointedly.

That made Rhapsodos pause briefly, nose wrinkling. "I suppose we should be on our way then Angeal, less we risk missing the entrance exams."

Hewely nods, glancing around, actually taking in the area around him rather than rushing through eagerly to become a SOLDIER. He lingers on the state of disrepair, dissatisfaction in his gaze. He gives Jenova a curt nod. "Ma'am."

They pair leaves, and Jenova orders her cells she slipped into Rhapsodos to hibernate for now. Its best to activate them while he's being enhanced, to scour through his failed body and fixed the genetic mistakes Hollander made while the planet's lifeblood is being injected into him. She knows there is a boot camp or some kind of training program, so the enhancement will not be instant. She will have to keep a loose mental eye on her cells and through them, Rhapsodos. Hewely does not need any such aid. His body is not degrading, having been crafted at least somewhat properly in Hollander's bumbling; he will not falter unless he takes in Rhapsodos's decaying cells once again.

A more human Calamity than the honed creation Sephiroth was.

She's seen where he ends though if she ever took him as her active son, its a road best not traveled. The mortal phrase being ' _be careful what you wish for_ ' an so apt description. Once Hewely was broken and accepted what he was, he _twisted_. Growing so far beyond Jenova's ability to control...

Honestly, these foolish scientists playing God or Goddess and manipulating life. Its what, in a way, gave rise to the Calamities originally, and would only create things so much worse. Sephiroth, at the pinnacle of what he could be should he attain it, was something that should _not_ walk creation. He broke all cycles, the rules of creation that bound their realm could not touch him within his full glory. At his peak potential, in the rare time he ever achieves it, he is capable of killing the Progenitor _in seconds_.

Its why when the time comes, Sephiroth must be the first to die, without any understanding of his Calamity legacy to bring him back.

She dismisses her thoughts and goes rifling through the thug's corpses for gil, pocketing the change, a few knives, a single gun, and a packet of cigarettes to barter with. She's not taking the clothes though, that could be linked more easily back to them if they sold them at the market or wore them.

"Waste not want not," she instructs Cloud, who nods solemnly.

He's already seen enough hardship in the Slums in the short time they've been here to be able to hide his reaction to the death. Seeing monsters ripping apart slum dwellers, or them being mugged for their money, and the like, is a way to force a child to grow up very quickly to stay safe. She thinks she will begin instructing him soon on the use of a knife, but not quite yet. She still wants him reliant on her and not at risk to wander off. She still has uses for her host's son, it would be a waste for him to die so soon...

Then she pauses.

Eyes are on her.

Familiar eyes.

Even if the presence grates.

She tilts her head to see the little ancient, crouched behind a small cluster of rubble and trash, emotionless analytical eyes watching them. She wonders idly how long it will take for Gainsborough to emerge from her laboratory experiment persona. Jenova calculates quickly. Ignore her? Greet her? Scare her off? Decisions decisions...

The girl's head swerves to look away from them, then she abruptly scurries off, saving Jenova the trouble of making a choice.

Jenova takes the hint. "Time to go Cloud, quickly now."

Before someone stumbles across them at the scene of the crime. Not that it truly would be considering even if she had killed them it would have legally been self defense. Though, good luck explaining that to Don Corneo without slaughtering the pompous fool and his entire network...

She forces her thought process to smooth out as they move away. She doesn't quite like the annoyance of train-of-thought and stream-of-consciousness that comes with forcing herself into a sole mortal body. Idle rambling thoughts can have their uses, but not all the time.

"Ma?"

"Yes Cloud?"

"I kinda wish we had stayed home back n Nibel," he said quietly, "I don't like it here."

She sighed. "I know Cloud, I know."

* * *

The second appearance of Don Corneo's men is a few days later, five to one, and at gunpoint. Apparently not being sighted near the corpses wasn't enough. Lo and behold, not a single security guard in sight either. Corruption is always the same, no matter which world or which race she deals with.

Cloud is still at school, but unfortunately, there are a lot more witnesses this time, in broad daylight in LOVELESS avenue. Since apparently they need to make a big, public deal out of this because of the death of the previous thugs.

"We got a 'ew questions for ye lady," says one of the thugs, "Ya see, we sent a few of ours to come n pay you a lil' visit a few days ago to collect some fees, and wouldn't cha know? They wind up dead. How 'bout that?"

"You'd have to take your problem above plate," said Jenova dryly, "A few SOLDIER wannabes decided to play hero without asking when I would have been content to simply pay the protection money."

The thug makes a tsking noise. "Be that as it may, m afraid that yer the one that's right here. We can handle this two ways. You cin pay several months worth of protection money right now as compensation..."

Well, they certainly didn't value the lives of their throw-away thugs if that's all, shame that... "I don't have that kind of money."

"...or, since yer not that tragic to look at, ye can work off them SOLDIER boy's heroics at the Honey Bee," he said gleefully.

Jenova doesn't particularly care if she whores off this body, the more important thing is that she knows full well once she enters into the prostitution ring, she's not getting out without a bloodbath. She is rapidly reconsidering whether she wants to fix Rhapsodos's genetic condition considering the mess he left her to deal with...

"Josh."

The thug pales and spins, approaching are a pair of Turks. The thug growls and spits out at one of them, "Ruluf. _"_

"Where is Corneo," asked the one addressed in a mild tone, a pair of guns at his hips, "We need to have a little chat about his sticky fingers going where they _shouldn't be_."

"I uh... sure...," stammers the thug, "I can take you to the bossman real quick, just gotta finish this up."

The Turks give Jenova a bored look, but then the second Turk does a double take and grins. "Well waja know! If it ain't the mountain lady all the way over here in Midgar."

The other Turk frowns. "You know her, Katana?"

"Yeah Two-Guns, she's the one Veld oh so nobly saved back at Nibelheim," he answered, hand over his heart, "Our heroic, noble, director."

Jenova is going to have to remember that Turks have a very good memory and a very good attention to detail to recall a one of meeting with a random village woman on a mission awhile ago. That kind of recollection can be dangerous if she's not careful with her words and actions. She also ties the name Ruluf to Two-Guns, not sure if it will be important, but files it away for later.

Katana laughs. "Bet the boss man will be happy to know his _sweetheart_ is in town."

Jenova raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

Katana winks and tilts his head towards the thugs.

She notes that they've all lowered their weapons and backed away, more than a little afraid of her. Ah, clever. Apparently it was a Turk with a heart, even hinting that Veld Verdot held some imaginary affection towards her is enough to scare the thugs away. Well... she's not going to say no to this problem neatly solving itself. She gives a nod back.

"So, waja doin all the way over here?" posed Katana.

Always curious, these Turks, sticking their noses where they don't belong. "The mountain weather didn't agree with me."

He grins. "That it didn't."

"Thought I'd try my life elsewhere," she said dryly, "Midgar has its... _charms_."

He laughed. "That it does. Settled in alright?"

He'll go nosing anyway, so she answers, "For the most part, apartment needs work, but I'll get to it. Landed a job at the Midgar Times."

"That so?" he answered, nodding to himself, "Not a bad place to start, lady."

"I have a name, its Claudia Strife."

"Pleasure to meet you again then, Missus Strife."

"Yes, I think I remember you now."

He puts a hand to his chest. "She remembers me Two-Guns!"

"I seem to recall my _sweetheart_ saying he had a bullet with your name on it," muses Jenova.

Two-Guns starts laughing. Katana just gives her a wolfish grin. "Missus Strife, at this point he's carved my name into several magazines worth of em. Dontcha worry bout it. Anyway, we gotta hit the job or the boss man might actually shoot me one of these days."

"Would be a shame," she said, noncommittal.

"I think I like this one," said Two-Guns, elbowing Katana, "Knows to put you in your place."

"Yeah yeah yeah," said Katana, moving off and waving back at her as he went.

Jenova files that odd encounter away for the time being and goes on her way to collect Cloud...

* * *

Squeaky shoes tap taping across the floor catch her attention as Jenova types away at the front desk computer of the Midgar Times. Her eyes flicker up to see... hmm...

Curious.

Why would Tseng of the Turks be here?

He approaches her desk and tips his head. "Mrs. Strife."

He knows her name, lovely. Turk attention is not what she needs nor want less than a year into her time here in Midgar.

"Good evening sir, how can I help you?" she asks, single eyebrow raised.

"Is your boss in? I've been sent to discuss a recent article he... _chose_... to publish."

Ah.

Not here for her then.

"Yes sir, in a meeting at the moment however, it ends in... five minutes or so," she advised.

He nods. "I will wait here then."

He moves to stand out of the way near the wall, hands clasped behind his back, patient blankness on his face. Jenova resumes her aimless typing for a few minutes, considering the presence for a moment. Hmm...

Perhaps a rapport to build?

Her eyes briefly flicker around; only the security guards by the door are present otherwise the entrance is clear. It had been a rather slow day.

"So, has that Katana fellow got himself shot by your director yet?" she poses without directly looking at Tseng.

Her vision is such that peripheral might as well be a full on stare. She catches the slightest twitch of his lips, masking amusement. "Not quite. Though considering that Director Verdot is a _happily married man_ , he wasn't quite impressed when he was informed that it had been voiced that he apparently had a sweetheart in a public setting. False rumors such as that are not things that should be spread."

"Of course," she agreed, not missing the hint in his tone; so he was partially here for her then, a two-reason visit to the Midgar Times then for the Turk, "I understand that myself. While I am relieved that he got those gangsters to leave me alone..."

She turns to give the Turk a cold stare. "...I _was_ a happily married woman myself before my husband died, I am loyal to his memory."

Tseng's face was already schooled of emotion, so he merely nods. "Of course. I'll give agent Katana a word about suggestive statements that can be... _misconstrued_."

She hums, before smirking, allowing a light teasing to escape, "Even if your director were not married, he'd have to at least make the effort to properly court me first, I have _principles_."

That gets a light huff out out of the Turk.

They both go back to ignoring one another until the Turk takes her 'boss' to his office to give softly worded threats about what he can and cannot publish...

* * *

Rupert Shinra is just as much of a fat pompous fool as Jenova has always seen along the threads to the future.

It still doesn't mean that Jenova can get away with not treating him publicly with respect. "Good afternoon, President Shinra, your three o'clock with the editorial board is set to begin in fifteen minutes. All the board are present, security is in place, and refreshments have already been prepared for the duration. I have a packet ready for your viewing of the relevant subjects."

Apparently, competence is a rarity considering the way the man full on stares at her for a moment before he tilts his head to the Turk at his side, his bulk having apparently masked Veld Verdot. A sense materia briefly passes over the packet before it comes clean, she's assuming it was for a toxin check. Its been many, many worlds since she personally last bothered with such a mundane way of killing a single person. Shinra gives her crisp nod and takes the packet from her hands, thumbing through it as he moves past with Turk and SOLDIER escort. Not apparently even deigning her a thanks for her effort.

She's usually not petty since it is a pointless thing, but her host most certainly is. They for once agree they'll make the man's eventual death just a tad bit more agonizing.

Such wastefulness too. Several SOLDIERs, the Turk director, and a few more Turks, just for planning a little publicity stunt to cover the Midgar Time's earlier article blunder. Certainty Verdot alone has better things to be doing. Jenova uses her own infected much, much more efficiently when she's devouring a world. It'll be an experience to do most of the legwork personally this time around rather through her network of cells. She idly wonders if she should try her hand at ruling the world for a time just for the experience of it all.

She wrinkles her nose in distaste.

Better to just devour them all and move on.

Such pointless curiosities and desires, being confined into a singular human body. Its not like she hasn't eaten plenty a warlord or dictator before.

They return sometime later, the group moving pass without a second glance. Verdot does set the packet she gave out back on her desk as he goes. She doesn't feel Shinra's presence on more than the cover, so apparently the swine hadn't even used her efforts. Foolish of him and not worth anything more than an eyeroll, though her host feels plenty of indignation... then she sees a note on the cover, and detects another person's faint touch on the edges, ghosts of fingers flipping through pages.

_-The packet was well put together and appreciated, Mrs. Strife. Its good to see someone with **principles** in the workforce._

She notices the slight emphasis of extra ink on 'principles', and recalling her conversation with Tseng, she huffs a quiet laugh at the jest as Verdot walks out the door.

* * *

Jenova knows Hojo's stench. Its not of sterilized chemicals like some might think, at least, not the stench she is referring to. It is of suffering and despair of all his victims. Its etched deeply into his soul, his aura, projected around him to give an unsettled experience for lesser beings. As such, when she feels him in the slums, she's rather... curious. Why would the scientist be down here, in the slums, on his own? Especially... incognito in trashy clothing? She follows at a distance, and really, the fact that he dropped his glasses from his visage does at least give him some ability in blending in.

Her eyes widen when she realizes just where he's going. This wasn't something she had expected. Had she somehow changed this?

Jenova has... touched upon many a magic, many a power, across the cosmos. She vanishes herself from sight as much as this body is capable of, and moves closer as Hojo approaches the Gainsborough home. Though he keeps his distance, and pulls out... a tape recorder?

"...Tuesday the third. Today, we see Specimen A working with her adoptive mother in the garden. It should be noted, that considering the diminished Lifestream around Midgar from the reactors, growing anything should be a colossal, almost impossible effort. Yet, Specimen A showcases her Cetran abilities with the flourishing of plants. From what can be seen, the plantlife is not struggling in the slightest, as if it were the most fertile of soil."

Hojo rubs his chin. "That Specimen A has inherited the powers of the Cetra is of no surprise, but that these abilities showcase little degradation in ability compared to her birth mother despite being a half-breed? Most curious... and she has yet to truly leave childhood. So these abilities are not reliant on physical maturity nor some specific milestone it seems. It is, perhaps, a possibility that she may have shown them from birth has she been in the correct environment, hence allowing the continuation of her leave of my laboratory. It is unfortunate that this route must be taken, but after discovering her birth mother's ability to terminate her own pregnancies at will, we must allow Specimen A to propagate the Cetran race in a more natural habitat as to run the same risks, if Midgar can be considered natural at all I suppose. It is most frustrating that the mother perished in the escape despite my most _clear instructions_ for her to not be more than lightly wounded as to not arouse her suspicion. I would have preferred not waiting another decade or two for more specimens to be born. Once Specimen A has birthed a few half-breeds, one can be acquired to continue experimentation, especially towards genetic engineering. If I can perhaps find a way to splice Jenova and Ancient Cells, I could make the cells dominant and create a true Cetra over several generations."

Jenova blinks. Ah. Hojo had known all along where Aerith was. She watches as Hojo watches from afar, pulling out binoculars and speaking more into his recording. She considers his desire. He's not wrong that it could work with her cells, though it wouldn't be a real Cetra with her cells splicing things together and pushing genetics a certain way. But who was he to truly know the difference? Its a desire, a temptation, that she could potentially abuse later on...

For the time being, she stands a ways away, leaning on a fence as she unmasks her presence and features., watching him stalk and study his prey. He eventually finishes and turns to leave, pausing when he sights her. He sniffs out with disdain, "Do you need something?"

"I don't know nor care why you are, but," she offers, "I can watch them for you."

Hojo considers her for a long moment. "Assuming you can catalogue your observations at all in proper form, what would you want in return?"

"A bit of gil, and a recommendation into Shinra proper should I ever need one."

"And what makes you think I could offer you that?"

"I might have fallen on hard times, but I _am_ educated and observant. The disguise is good, but you were rather published, Professor Hojo, before you entered Shinra."

Hojo hums in contemplation. "I see."

He wrinkles his nose. "Very well. Come with me, I will show you where to make a drop that one of my assistants will check bi-weekly. For every report, gil will be left at the drop as payment, the recommendation will be allowed after several years of effort. This is the one chance I will offer, if your reports do not at least somewhat approach my standards, the next time we meet will be under much different circumstances. I do not appreciate my time being wasted, especially if I miss something from an incompetent observer."

As in, an experiment in his labs.

The threat is almost adorable.

"Of course, sir," she says, "I look forward to working with you in the future."

He hums. "We'll see."

* * *

"Hey ma! I made a friend!"

Jenova looks over from the news report on the TV, and isn't really surprised to see the Ancient at Cloud's side. Somehow, someway, they almost always seem to meet. Fate and Destiny may be fickle, but they do like to rhyme. "Good afternoon miss...?"

"Speci... erm... Aerith," corrects the girl, face blank, "My... my name is A-aerith G-gainsborough."

Such an uncertain and timid thing at this age. Had she really been about to call herself a ' _specimen_ '? Well, considering its likely all Hojo ever referred to her as, its going to take a bit to unstick. Ah the temptation to abuse that is so delectable...

"Its nice to meet you properly this time, Miss Gainsborough," said Jenova with a bemused smile.

Cloud frowns a little. "Properly?"

"I um... I saw the protection people asking for money from you like they do mom awhile ago," said Aerith quietly.

Cloud's face closes off for a moment, fists tight. "They didn't hurt you or anything, did they?"

"N-no," murmured Aerith, "Mom didn't have enough money to pay along with the house, talked about it and worked it out."

Hmm, Turk interference perhaps like herself? "How she manage that?"

"I dunno, but they came over now and then and went up to mom's room to make a lot of weird noises," said Aerith, a dubious look on her face, "That stopped when those guys with swords broke the protection people."

Ah, sex to pay off a thug. Common theme of poverty across almost all worlds, one she's used to spread her cells multiple times to great effect. She's honestly a little surprised the Turk's hadn't stepped in, or did they not actually know where the Ancient was yet? She had a hard time believing that. Jenova is on mildly curious how long that would have went on for in the original way of things, perhaps the Turks eventually stopped it to try to gain the Ancient's favor? Regardless... even if Jenova is a mother only truly by her own designation and mental manipulation of those she infects, she can respect a mother's desire to protect her child by any means. Even if that child is a filthy little ancient brat that needs to be exterminated.

Patience, patience, even if it would be so easy to reach out and snap her neck.

Jenova hums and asks, "Does your mother know you're here?"

Aerith hesitates then shakes her head.

"Well, that won't do. How about we take you home and you introduce us to her?" offered Jenova.

There is danger in doing this, in potentially drawing so much Turk attention by being near Aerith. But, there is also a boon, to make it a normal thing. It also lets her observe more for Hojo's reports.

Cloud whispers to her as Aerith leads them out of the house and through the slums. "She was all alone digging through trash for stuff. There were monsters rattling about, So I just grabbed her and ran, we got to the playground and..."

"It's fine Cloud," she offers, "Noble of you to help, and I'm glad you made a friend."

Cloud puffs up a bit, smiling, then runs ahead to walk alongside Aerith, chatting with her. Jenova does not quite like the pair of them together. But... it can have its uses. So far, it doesn't appear the Ancient has noticed anything. She most certainly does not feel a reaction from the Planet either, and she's quite sure she would if it detected her near its precious Ancient. So its a good test at least to see if her proximity draws attention over time. Even if it doesn't, she has little desire to remain close to the ancient for an extended period of time anyway.

Jenova never truly paid attention to Elmyra Gainsborough outside of seeing her as a target to destabilized the Ancient via her death or to kill to eliminate an influence when corrupting her. But the immediate way the woman's eyes size up Aerith's condition and then both her and Cloud for threats is... insightful. A nobody widow most of the time, but truly, in knowing that she'd sell her own body to protect the Ancient, Jenova wonders if Elmyra would murder for the child?

Safer to assume yes.

"Good evening miss Gainsborough," said Jenova, tipping her head, "My son wished to escort your daughter back after a near miss with a few monsters."

The Elder Gainsborough sighed. "Aerith, what have I said about going out alone?"

"Not too," muttered the girl, kicking at the floor, "I just... I just wanted to find stuff to trade to help."

Elmyra sighed and stepped forward, kneeling down to draw Aerith into a hug, whispering into her ear as she ran a hand through the girl's hair. Jenova watches each motion critically, noting how relaxed the girl becomes each second in her mother's presence. She considers if Elmyra needs to have an unfortunate accident, perhaps not in the immediate future, but eventually. One day, she will need to destroy the Ancient before Holy can be used, having her as unbalanced as possible at that point is perhaps key.

Both Sephiroth and Aerith Gainsborough need to die in very quick succession once the time comes.

For now though, when Elmyra invites them in for dinner, Jenova, ever the grateful mother, agrees...


End file.
